


Cold Comfort

by typhe



Category: Valdemar Series - Mercedes Lackey
Genre: Friendship, LHM, M/M, UST
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-27
Updated: 2013-10-27
Packaged: 2017-12-30 15:41:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1020436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/typhe/pseuds/typhe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Stefen has feelings, and Vanyel doesn't know what to do about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cold Comfort

"Van?"

He'd expected Stef, and had somehow known it would be Stef, but the knock at his door hadn't sounded like Stef - Vanyel was used to Stefen neatly tapping out bars of refrain, riddle-riffs from songs they'd shared that he'd expect Vanyel to have placed before he opened the door, so for a moment he'd believed the faltering hand must belong to someone else. Stef had stumbled in almost before Vanyel called out to him to enter, shrunken and shivering.

"I'm alright," Stef mumbled before he could even ask, and wavered to his usual chair. Enough of a sign that he wasn't - he didn't usually shy from voicing physical complaints to make bids for Van's attention. "Just tired, and..."

 _He's hurting somehow_ \- Van coldly looked for another ploy, maybe a more subtle tack than the previous attempts, but Stef hardly had the strength to lay a trap. _He's probably burning through energy without thinking about it_ , he speculated, and watched Stef shiver his shoulders convulsively. "You're freezing."

"You don't need to waste fuel on me -" 

Vanyel narrowed his eyes, and busied himself with building up his neglected fire and igniting the new coals with threads of magic - thin ones, because when he reached for his strength he found it wasn't so much better than Stefen's. "You're too low on energy to keep yourself warm. It's not separable - the strength to keep going, physically, and the strength you put into your Gifts is much the same thing, and non-mages can't replenish it except with rest. Stef, you're a much more limited resource than the Palace coal stores."

"Flattered, I'm sure" Stef replied acidly. Van fought for words that weren't condescending or cold or too close to the bone, and Stef picked them up abruptly before he found them. "I'm sorry. Not been this tired in years. I'm not even used to, to even thinking of what I do as being something I can _run out_ of. Doesn't make sense yet."

"Thought you could do anything?" Vanyel's smile was returned, but halfheartedly, as Stef pulled his arms around himself and leaned his face toward the fire. He remembered being this young, taking difficulties this ungracefully. "You're finding your limits, Stef. It happens to all of us."

Stef shrugged, looking despondent at the very idea of it. "It's a long time since anything I did was this hard..." His face seemed to fold like wet paper. "He's getting worse, isn't he? I kept _trying_ but I knew he was still feeling it and I, what am supposed to do?"

 _You thought you could do anything and there's nothing you can do about death._ He felt Stef's helplessness, shared it too keenly, pressed his lips tight together while he considered what to say. _He_ is _hurting_ , and Van fought the urge to give up on clumsy words and just reach out and touch him. _No. I can't risk treating him like I would any other friend - or worse, like more than a friend._ Stef leaned tiredly on the arm of his chair, curled his knees up to chest, and Van's resolve almost wavered. _I want to comfort him..._

Stef raised a weary eyebrow, and Vanyel realised he was responding more like a wooden log than a friend. "Shouldn't have complained, I guess. You're more worn out than I am -"

"No," he said, shaking off his confusion. "Dammit, you're not a trained Healer - have you ever watched someone slipping away from you before? You've never been taught how to handle this day in day out. And it's hard however many times you've seen it, and when it's a - a friend -"

"He's the _king_ , Van. I know he's _your_ friend, but -" The look on his face was uncharacteristically honest. "I just thought I could help. I didn't know I was going to feel for him so personally."

"You're not a trained Healer," he said again. "And Randi has his charms, doesn't he?"

"Yes," and Stef looked to him in confusion, clouded reddened eyes. "I keep thinking, I'm going to miss him so much." Van met his gaze, felt something fragile and unknowing. _Child, have you never lost someone?_ It seemed farfetched that Stefen had reached manhood without knowing grief, but - _he's been...detached. No family, and he doesn't even expect to feel for people - he's been_ protecting _himself_ , Vanyel realised. _And now - he isn't._

Stef blinked tiredly, and his eyes fell from Vanyel's, leaving Van to gnaw over the Empathic insight - one of those jolts of awareness that he was sure was true, but didn't know what to do with. Stef had only ever pretended to show him vulnerability before now. This time it was real, and there was nothing Van _could_ do, and it was more difficult and provoking than any sign of infatuation. _Stef, I want to care for you. I want to be there for you. And not like you're a so-called 'nephew' -_ He swallowed hard and tightened his Mind-shields, brimming with guilt. There wasn't anything he could give except weak words. "I'll miss him too - but I won't mourn someone still living. I don't have many friends," and he let the word linger, "but I'll treasure every moment I have with them."

"Van," Stef asked quietly. "How long does he have? Because if he keeps getting worse -"

"I doubt he'll get any worse immediately," Van assured him flatly. "Randi's been having these cycles of pain for years, but they've gradually escalated. You'll see him get a little better again and then worse again over the next few weeks."

Stef sagged against the wing of his chair, hair falling in his eyes. "Gods. Then you might find me crawling back here like this in a while -"

"You're always welcome," Van promised. Stef's other question had been hanging for years, a stale smell in the Palace hallways that only a newcomer would have mentioned. "I don't know how long he'll hang on for. We've heard the Healers and the Foreseers argue it out; they give him another one or two winters. I know Randi; he'll stay with us as long as there's work to do and he's strength to do it." He closed his eyes, and leaned his cheekbone on two crooked fingers. "I'm sorry I can't be of more comfort."

Stef shook his head. "You're being _you_. If it was coddling I was after, I would have gone to Breda -" He sighed. "I just wanted to - not be alone."

"It's all you can ask for, sometimes." _When one can ask. When there's anyone_ to _ask. Mostly, I've lost people and been alone -_ and his heart spasmed with unwelcome longing. He turned his face to the fire, bidding his folly to leave him and let them get on with being _friends_. He needed that, too much to sully it with inopportune lust. "It's been hard to find anyone who'll talk about it," he said quietly. "Everyone's either too distant from him to dare or so close we don't burden each other with words."

"And there I go interloping." Van was surprised to feel the corners of his mouth twitch into a smile. "You know you can talk to me, right?"

"I do," he replied, wonderingly. Stef was so easy to talk to, and he'd often found himself saying more to Stef than he'd expected he could say to anyone. The Bard was a good listener, and he sometimes had a way of grasping things that Van couldn't put into words. _Which helps, when I'm as short of words as I am of people who'd want to hear them._ "I want you to know something," he added. "I know Randi seems at a low, but - you're the only person who _doesn't_ know how much you've done for him. You're the best thing that's happened to Randale in years. You don't know what his bad days were like before you were there for him."

Stef's face twisted. "If they were as bad as today -"

 _And he knows, doesn't he? He can tell when someone's in pain._ Vanyel had long since given up on the 'how' of Gifts, but Stefen's knot of talents might be the strangest he'd ever seen; yet as so often, those Gifts had appeared when and where they were needed. "There haven't been many days in the last year when Randi could function for long without pain-muting drugs - and he doesn't like what those do to his mind. So believe me, you've transformed him. You've given him strength and reason back. You've done more than anyone ever has to make his life better - and that's all we can do for each other. I realised that, a few years ago, that when you lose someone all that really matters is having good memories of them..." 

It wasn't a particularly cogent statement, but through eyes prickling from smoke and heavy conversation, he saw Stef nod, accepting this advice about the unknown. _He's been learning so much so fast. He's young, but there's more to him than I ever expected._ "I will," Stef mused. "I keep wishing I'd known him when he was younger."

Van sighed longsufferingly. "Are you trying to get me to tell you stories?"

Stef shrugged off the accusation. "I thought you might want to."

"I do," he realised, a step behind Stefen once again. "I really do."


End file.
